Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 68055 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68055 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
The barstool tilts on two legs as I reach over and grab the one bottle of ketchup on this half of the bar and set it down in front of her.
“Thank you,” she says politely. She always covers her chicken tenders with salt. No ketchup, they’re for the fries. No barbeque sauce. Just a little salt.
“Oh yeah, a date? And who is this Prince Charming?” I’m surprised by the jealousy I feel as I look back at her gorgeous eyes while she cocks a brow as if to say, ‘you have no reason to be jealous’.
“It was awful,” she says comically and a genuine smile graces her lips as she lets out a huff of a feminine laugh. A wave of relief washes over me. Holding onto the edge of the barstool and spreading my legs a little wider, I listen to her tell me about this guy, Jason.
I steal a fry, and then another. Each time it only makes her smile more. After a few fries remind me how full I am from dinner I know I’m not really hungry, but I’m used to stealing a bit off her plate when she orders food. I guess we both have some habits now.
“And then what?” I ask her wanting to know more about this horrible date.
I wonder what it was like from his perspective. If he really saw her for who she is. The thought makes my heart do a small flip, but I barely notice as her hand absently brushes mine again and she leans in. The sparks are still there, but I’m better at hiding that it happened this time around.
“I can’t even tell you,” she states and she’s animated as she talks. “It was just something about him. He was so… so… arrogant and cocky. He was rude.” She purses her lips for a minute. “And he was definitely balding.”
Letting out a chuckle, I take in the bar with a smile. The floor’s covered, patrons are being served and Frankie’s going to need another in about five minutes.
My phone rings and I absently check it, forgetting that I was in the middle of a conversation with Ma before Grace came in.
I know you got the text, Charlie. I’m only trying to help.
Deleting what I was going to send before, I text my mom back: I know Ma. Love you and hit the side button on my phone, pushing off of the bar to get myself a water. I could really use a beer, but I learned a long time ago not to let that happen on the clock. I have to set an example. If you’re working, you’re not drinking.
“What’s wrong?” Grace asks. I grab a bottle of water from the built-in beverage refrigerator.
I don’t answer her right away. Instead, I twist the cap off and take a swig and then another. I should really grab a Coke; I need the caffeine. Giving her a one armed shrug, I set the bottle down below the counter and make my way back to the stool in front of Grace. My eyes travel to the clock on the side wall. It’s going to get busy real soon.
“It’s nothing. Just my mom checking in on me,” I say.
Grace’s expression doesn’t give much away, but she keeps looking at me. She cocks a brow, pressing me for more information.
An easy laugh rumbles up through my chest as I grab the bottle and take another sip. “My sister’s getting married, and my ma thinks she’s going to set me up at the wedding.”
Grace must get a real good kick out of that, judging by the huge smile on her face. I never noticed how perfect her smile is. Damn, those doe eyes light right up, too. They're shining with happiness as she claps her hands once and smiles.
“You think, it’s funny that she’s trying to hook me up with someone?” I tease her. “Better than OKCupid or whatever you’re using.”
Her eyebrows raise, and she purses her lips before taking another french fry and biting into it. She wags the half of fry left at me before admitting, “You’re probably right.”
It’s quiet for a moment, and my phone pings again.
We both look at it on the bar, but I don’t flip it over to see what Ma said. It’s probably just ‘I love you too’.
“You should probably answer her,” Grace says with a sly smile.
I steal two fries and shove them into my mouth, staring at her the whole time.
She gapes at me. She looks at the phone as if she’s going to take it, but she doesn’t. I like this more aggressive, competitive side of her.
She doesn’t push though, instead she takes a sip of her beer.
I reach for my phone, giving in and I don’t miss the smile on Grace’s face as she takes another a sip of her beer. There are actually two messages waiting for me: